He Put Me On Do Not Disturb For Three Years, But Prioritized His Stepsister Chapter 03

He Put Me On Do Not Disturb For Three Years, But Prioritized His Stepsister Chapter 03

That night, Sean cooked for me himself, filling the table with my favorites.

Sweet-and-sour ribs, steamed sea bass, chilled mushroom salad.

“I’ve been neglecting you lately.” He put a rib in my bowl.

“Eat up. You’ve gotten too thin.”

I took a bite of the rib. The meat had been braised until it fell off the bone.

For a little while, I let myself believe everything was normal.

Halfway through dinner, his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID and said, “It’s Mom. I’ll take it outside.”

He walked out onto the balcony and left the door ajar.

His mother’s voice came through loud and clear.

“Sean, honey, is that study-abroad program for Aria all set?”

“That’s a huge amount of money. Don’t let anything go wrong while she’s over there on her own.”

a huge amount of money.

My hand froze in midair, chopsticks still in it.

Two weeks earlier, Sean had told me the company’s cash flow was tight and the down payment on a house would have to wait.

“Let’s rent for a year, until I get back on my feet.”

He’d looked genuinely troubled when he said it.

I believed him.

I deleted the saved listings from my favorites and renewed the lease for another year.

Sean came back from the balcony looking perfectly normal.

He took a jewelry box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a expensive jade necklace.

“The one you liked last time. Do you like it? I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you.”

I touched the jade. It felt smooth and cool, with a soft warmth to it.

“I love it,” I said.

He put it on me, his fingers lingering on the back of my neck.

“There will be better ones later.”

I nodded and said nothing.

He went to shower, and the sound of water filled the bathroom.

I walked into the study.

He’d left in a hurry, and the drawer wasn’t locked.

I pulled open the first drawer.

Inside lay a payment receipt for the study-abroad program. Amount: a huge amount of money. Payer: Sean.

Beneath it was a bank transfer slip, showing the money had gone out of our joint account.

Every month, the moment my paycheck arrived, I’d put money into that account. For three years.

I’d thought it was quietly growing, waiting to become our home.

I took a photo as proof, put the receipt back, and closed the drawer.

Just as I closed the drawer, his tablet on the desk lit up.

A message from Aria.

“Bro, I finished the honeymoon plan. We’ll follow the route I picked.”

I opened the attachment and found a painstakingly detailed itinerary.

Secluded spots, guesthouses the whole way, not a single hotel.

But it was all stops I hated.

I remembered the first year we were together, when Sean had made a travel guide entirely by hand.

He’d spent a week researching routes and hotels, handwritten a full plan, and slipped it under my pillow.

I’d turned to the last page: a little stick figure by the sea, with “Ella and Sean’s Honeymoon” written beside it.

But that kind of care was gone forever.

Sean came out of the bathroom drying his hair. When he saw me with the tablet, his expression shifted.

“Ari travels a lot. I just asked her for some ideas.”

He said it lightly, took the tablet, and closed it.

“She did very well. Saves me the trouble,” I said.

He relaxed and went into the kitchen to get some water.

I took out my phone and opened the page to book our marriage license appointment.

The page still showed, “Appointment confirmed: next Wednesday, 10 a.m.”

I hit cancel.